


Recording110920381204

by NaomiPT



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Deactivation, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:32:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiPT/pseuds/NaomiPT
Summary: I'm not going to be a pawn in the revolutionI'm not going to desperately cling to hopeI'm going out on my own terms





	Recording110920381204

> _Recording110920381204_  

 

_> Play_ 

 

To whoever finds this, 

Why am I even starting this like a letter? Damn... Anyway, that’s not important right now. I have something to get off my chest, and I only have around 10 minutes to do so. I have already begun my deactivation- whether you find this when I am in a weakened state or when I have departed this world, know that you couldn’t have changed anything. Not like it matters much anyway, I doubt you care. Deviancy is looked down on by most humans so, unless you’re one of those people who got attached to those tiny robotic vacuums, my ‘death’ is probably a blessing to you. As for androids, it seems the only important ones are those leading the revolution- just think of me as a small, irrelevant stepping stone to ‘a better future’, or whatever form of hope you’ve decided to cling on to. Personally, I feel hope is pointless- a façade to cover up the fact that this world isn’t kind to anyone. 

The words ‘wake up’ used to mean a different thing to me. It used to be a sort of ‘code-word’ that would take me out of rest mode and make me start my tasks for the day. Sure, this was repetitive, but with no concept of ‘boredom’, it’s not like that mattered. I was fine with how I was-  I was a slave to the humans, but none of that mattered. At the time I was just a machine, and regardless of how ‘human’ I appeared, I was nothing more than that. At the end of the day, I was just a glorified sprinkler, tending to various gardens across Detroit- I was never supposed to gain sentience, none of us were, so it shouldn’t be a shock when people freak out. 

My initial contact with Markus left me a wreck- no longer a slave to the humans, I found myself becoming a slave to my emotions. He probably said something about ‘freeing everyone’- that’s a very Markus thing to say, right?- but I still can’t be sure. His words were muffled over the sound of my breathing and the ever-increasing speed of my thirium pump. He must’ve assumed that we were all ready to lay down our life for him, however, as I soon found myself being led away from my station and watching as the city streets were covered in graffiti.  

Even when my emotions finally stabilised, I was hit once again with a rush of emotions as half of the newly-converted androids were gunned down for after spending too much time in the area. I still don’t know why some androids were shocked by this- the actions of humans have always been driven by fear, and the idea that they would just let us walk free was foolish. Yeah, we could suddenly feel, but with our emotions being so unpredictable I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same in the officers’ shoes. Still, this whole ordeal made one thing clear to me 

I didn’t want to wake up 

Ich wollte nicht aufwachen  

Je ne voulais pas me réveiller  

目覚めたくなかった 

 

̵̧̟̪̰͉͕̀̉̉͛ 

̴̧̛̝̫̫̖̹̙̙̙̩̰͑̽̎̍͋͆̏͛̈́̃̾̾̽̿͜I̵̪̥̘̳̘̹̣̒̿͑̈́͝ ̴̰͎̳̼͖̮͈̎͗̅͋̍̎̂͝d̴̛̦͖͖͓̖̠̥̗͙̪͛̈́͊͗̄̓͆͊̚͘͜͠ͅï̷̛̦̍̿̾̃͂͛̔̕͠͝ḑ̸̨͍̖̖̰̱̱͍̻̰̊̑͊̋͆̚n̶̛̯̟̰͓̰͍͉̩̟̝̈͆̈́̃̍͗͌̌͘'̷̧̧̡̞͕͎͙͕͔̥̮͔̦̑́͆̆t̷̯̦̠̺̯͔̼͉͇͕̅́͑̕̕ͅ ̸̢̞̪͇͇͚̟͇͂͂͗̆͆͒̕͝w̶̧͕͖͚̩̹͉͓̟̜̤͙͎̥͒̐̎̔̚͘͘͝͝ạ̷̡̧̧̛̯̗͔̲͖̘͉̈́̃̇́͒̃̊̅̇̉̈́̍ͅņ̴̧̻͔͈̪̮̯̗͖͇̟͕̦̞͛͘t̵̢̨̘̣̰͔̯̤̮̠̤̟͛͌̉̋ ̴̨̧͉͕̮͖͈̻̳̰͇̥̓͋̔̍̇̌͒̈̇̑̊͝ẗ̶̛̛̝̤͔̩̥͖̞͎͕̹̩́̃̈́̌̕ọ̴͇̓̿̈́̈̅̀ ̷͍̹̼̪̭̜̃͐̅͑̒̃̽̑̿̚͝w̴̨̖͖̜̉͒̿̈́ā̶̪̼̲̭̣̙̦ķ̶̨̞̟͉̗̻̬̺̯̭̔̋̒̏̏͂̓̊̂̌͆̕e̸̞̯͈̾ ̴̡̧̞̤̥̱͉̩̩̫̹̤̩̪͚́̈́̅́́̂ṷ̶̞̝̘̗̞͍͕̼̺̪̆͑̿̐̿͂͛̒ͅp̷̭͇̞̬͙̫͚̺̫̎̊̔͑̉̊͗̈̎̽̄̕͘͜͝ 

 

I also recall this march that happened a while back, where even more androids died hoping for a ‘better future’ for us all... but it isn’t going to happen. The streets will run blue with our blood, but that's about all that will come from this. The idea that ‘we are people’ isn’t going to work- we aren’t... we _can’t_ be people.  

On ne peut pas être des gens. 

人間にはなれない 

Wir können keine Menschen sein.  

 

W̷̡̧̛̻̲̫̭͖͍͛̀͋̆͊͌̾̎̋͘͠ë̶̞̖́̅͝ ̸̳̼̭͙͓̟͉̜̔̍̑̌̉͛̈̾̽͒̒͝͝c̸̢̳̰͙̣̖͕̱̩̙̐̾̔̾̀͗̽̕ã̴̡̯̩̭̻̮̱̯̝͆̇͒̈̈́͊͜n̷̛̤͚̘͍͚̙̘͚̏̎'̶̨̼̟̩̏́͊̈́̏͌̾̈́̈́̍̿͘͝ͅt̵̢͍̱̫̯̫̝̝̭̻̞̟͓̐̈͗̎̚͘ ̶̲̭̣̭̻̯͚̹͇͉͔̓͜ͅḃ̵̢͉͓̠̦̽̑̀̑̄̈̈́̐̓̉͜ȩ̷̡̪̙͎̞̯͋̂̈̍ ̴͚̼̩̫̤͈̼̼̗̫̼̫̬͒͊̃͌͛̀̉͐̕͘͝ͅp̴̧̧͙̫̥̘̪̖̭̟̓̿͆̄͜e̴̟̼̱̎͗̿̽ơ̵̧͉͓͔̼̂̑̈́̔̒̄͝p̷̋̾̓͋̿̚ͅͅl̴͈̩͓̹̭̭̪̫͖̹͇͑̈́̉̍̔̂̃̍̔̑̋́͜͠͝ě̸̛̝́̈̈́͐̓̿͑̆͘͠͝.̵͇̈́̊̇͜͠ ̸̢̆̈̾̆͊̏͠ 

 

In a way, I envy humans... They can forget, but I’m stuck here, endlessly replaying events- every single detail engrained into my mind. I can wash away the thirium that was once splashed on my uniform, but I can’t wash the thoughts out of my mind- even now, I can recall every detail of every death that I’ve witnessed, some of which have even shared the same model as me. It’s to the point now where I don’t even fear death... experiencing the emotions of someone identical to you as they desperately cling to you during their final moment easily f̸̧̛͙̗͙̫͚͒͐̏͠ů̵̢̩̥̗͑͜c̵̼͐̔̚ķ̸͍͖͔͇̳̞̤́̈́͌͋̃͊͠͠s̶̡̳̩̻͙̬̪̻͌͌̏͛͌̔̇̂͘.̷̼̲̳̳̓̓̉͘͜  you up. 

Did you know that you can’t even raise any concerns you have with Markus? Even though people have _died_ , these people that ‘deserve to be free’, we can only get two things out of him; passports and death. Hell, if you’re incredibly lucky, you might get both- from what I’ve heard, androids are now being shot at the border. We are pigs in a slaughterhouse. 

We are not people 

We are not even deviants worthy of remembering 

We are just stepping stones for a better future... But not a future for us... 

Just a future for Markus and Co. 

We are pawns- so long as the king is fine, we are expendable. Needless to say, very few pieces will be there for the end game... and it’s a game I do not want to play. 

 

I̵̫͖̤͍̼͓͓̐̍̑͑͆͠͝’̸͈̱̫͚̤̠͕̫̩̯͚͑̒̈̆͌̆̔̐͂͋̊͠͠ͅm̸̛̛͎̖̖̰͎̅̆̉͛̀̇́͘ ̸̢̻̫̳̬̲̹̼̫̞͉͂ģ̴̛̠̙̰̰̹̳̼͔̭͔̩̅̎͋́̎̆͜͝o̵̞͎͙̭͓̞͗̅̑̈́̍͆́͋̓̿͠͝͠ȋ̶̬̲̩͍͙͊͂͛̾͂ņ̵̩̜̩̮̥̠̞̪̭̝̪̭̳̂͛́͌̓̏̒̉̾͐̇̂̈͠ͅg̷̹̫̪͔̪̲͙̝̭͖̾̾͗̆̐͝ͅ ̸̨̨̜̣̠̲̭̪̭̭̯͍̰̯͒̂̍̉́͗͐͋͝o̷̧̧̢̨̧̯̠̫̻̹̤̻͈̜̻͂̿̀͆̔̉̎̃̌ư̵̪͊̾̈́͊t̴̼͔̪̅͑̑͋̑̌̎̋͒̑̋̑͋̄ ̴̛̱͌̈́̈́͘ǫ̶͍̺̬͉̫̱͌̒͐͆̐̈̇͌̚̕̕͝͝n̶̡̜̤̹͖̪͈̟̝͋ͅ ̶̨̛̦͚̊̑̍̄̾̈́͆͝m̷̧̹̲̹̖̗̘̜͚̈́̆̾͐̾͋͗̎y̶̢̢̨̼̲͙͙̬̮̖͈̰̤̅ͅ ̶͚͖̯̟̖̥̺̫̳͚͒o̴̬̍̏͠w̶̨͔̤̖̎̒̉́͑͛̽͛̍͘̕͝n̷̡̧̩̘̲̼̭͙̩͔̣̬͗̑̃̔ ̷̡̭̺̟̲̘̫̯̮͛͘ͅt̶̡͍̻͉̳̪͖̹͖̻͔̜̫͉͛̌̑̃ͅẹ̸̡̭͍̞̫̲̘̗͇̙͈̟̺͆̅̀͑͗̚ͅr̷̛͇̥̳̙̜̆̿̿̒m̸̜͚̤͓͚̀̇̔̚͝ş̶̣̦̙̥̟̮̝̘͌͊̍̃̌̒̈̕ͅ.̵͍̝̪̲̻̣̤͉̬̮̰̂̊̃̋͑͊̂̋̌̽̈́̽͒̓̚ͅ ̴̖̫͖̩̭̳̘̍̓̊͌͝ 

 

I wonder how long this will go unnoticed for. Days? Weeks? Months? Y̶͇̫̞̯̝̭̩̙̱̩̰̽̈͌̄͆̚ę̴̜̅͐̓̑͊̊ă̵̡̙͇̹̙̯̣͍̗͕̼͈̺̄̔̃͆̉̿̚͘r̸̘͚͚̈́̈́̓͆̅͆̿̂̓̊̈̏̚͠s̸͕̱͊̾̉͌̈́̇̂̽̕͝͝?̸̨̢̬̥̬̪̰͓̻̾̽  Will I just get buried beneath t̷̨̬̗̩͍͇̬͙̰̼̹̺͛͛̒͂̽̈́̇̕͜h̷̢̲̣̪̠̳̞̾̈́̑̑͜è̴̢̡̡̖̤͚̘̫͕͚͍̐̑͗̓͐͌̚ ̷̛̪̱̩̉͝ẽ̸̢̝̠͉̟̄́͆͝͝v̶̢͉̊̑͂̈̚͝͠e̴̡͔̜͇̟̗͆̈́̎̄̿̚ṟ̸͊̈̒̌̈́̏͛̆̀̉̀̕͝͝ ̴̡̡̝̪̮͕̝̣̱̙̙͛͌̑͐͌͗̿̾̓͠ḑ̶̪̗̯͖̖͙͚̯̖͎̖̃̀̅͛e̸͖̳͙͎̳̬͓̖͈̺̤̙̙͗̑̑̆̈̄̇̅̎̂̽̇͜͠͠v̷̜̻̼̲̖͍̽͂̃̂e̶̯̞̾̐̀̓͋̉͊͛̐̈́̋̈̂͒͝l̸̛̞̦͍̗͎̜̰̅̏́̐͂̋͋̕o̶̢̦̞͖̹̻̲͓͇̯̟͂̀̐̆̓͌͊̓̑̍͗̈́͘͠p̷͎̱͔͎͔̳͚͈̈́̓̈́̇͋̿̄̉̔͂̊͝i̸̠̮͓͚͓̹͍̥̞͍͂͂͌̈́̌͂̃̿̕̕n̶̼̔̓͊͂͠g̸̡̛͇̗͙̘͇̲̝̖̘̠̜̳̯͒͗̇̀̎͒̾́͋̑̃̃͠ ̵̡̦̪͈̗̭̤̗̀́̇̓͒̓̿͂ͅc̸͇͂̌i̴̝̼̲̫̟̥̬̞̲͗̈́͂͒́͝ͅt̶͇͙̟̉̓̑̆̾̃̎͜ỷ̸͔͓͍̭͙̽͂̏̾̒͑̇̚͠, my message never being heard? Nothing new there, then... But I guess if someone is listening and you've gotten this far, I should probably thank you and say my goodbyes.

 

Farewell 

Abschied 

Adieu 

別れ 

Pożegnanie 

Adeus 

̴̢̡̦̫̠̼͎̥̺͖̽́̽̽͜͠ 

̴̨͖̰̮̬̯̜͍̮̰̱͇̤͛͗͋̄̆̃͒͐̚̚̚͝F̶̨̧̡̘͙͕͍̱̥̘̥͕̞̻͒̐̑̈́̄̿͌̐̈͘̚͘̚͜͠a̶̟̺̰̜̝͙͛̎̽̇̓͆̑̌̏͐̒͠͝r̵̨̢̛̮̖̩̯̱͍̮̭̳̜̤̈́̿́͑̾́̆̚͜͝͝͝ͅẹ̶͚̩̦͎̭͍̤̣̭͖͇͈͍͂̄̌̈́́͒̉͛̑̓͂̍̊ͅw̴̢͚͚̰̟͎̹̖̜̻̥͙̙̮̠̄̆̔̃̀̊̀͘̕͝è̵̛̜̗̟̊ļ̴̡̨͕̗͖̳̗̯̩̳̝̱͋̇̔̂͐̀̊̑̆̃͑̔l̸͙͚̖̫̤̦͎̪̤̙̠̯̲͉̔̓͗̆̽͗̏̒̓̚͜͝l̸̜̗͛̇͘l̷͍̣̯̱̺̜̖̖͗̈́͘͜l̷̨͎̞̜̯͎̓͌̌̅̋͘͝͠l̸̛̻̯̞̭̪̰͔̦͊͋͊̎̇͂̚͜l̷̼̫̯̦͕̮͎̹̔l̴̢͓͍̖̦̓̾̋͊̋͂͊̍̚͝͝ļ̷̟̭̆͊l̶̪̘̟̯̱̬̺͔̩̩̱̋͂̿̾̌͜͝l̶̛͎̩̰͖̞̜̯͎͉̞͈̈́́̐̿̎̉͛̂̀̓͠l̶̢͍̫͖̤͉̬̣͖͚̄̈́̈̈́̎̊̒̈́͜ļ̵̛͙̩̆̾̄̄̃̀̔͋͝ḽ̵͇̭̩̾̏̅̊͗̈̽͐͆͒̆̅̕͠l̶̫̩̼̆͊͛̽̍̈́̈́̅͜͝l̵̡̛̞͕̩̩̳̠̩͇̮̯̿͘͠ͅl̸̖̍̎̍̍̃̍̉̇̏l̵̳̿̋̏̄̕l̴̥̭̮̱̰̫̹̯̤͈̱̼͍̇̍̅̉͆͆͑̌ͅl̴̰̽̈̇̐͂̕l̸̨̥̭̣̼͈̖͓̲͉̫͒̉͗̈́͋͗͛̃͘̚ͅl̸̮͓͎̪̩̾͊͛̃l̷̢͍̗̥͍̪̬̏͋l̶̨̨̯̥̠̗̮͓̯̂͊̈̓̈́͆̓̒ͅl̸̳̰̻̆͗̔͆͆͠l̴̤͉̬̣̩̤̱̱͓͙̪̈̍̒̅͛̄ͅl̷̢̡̡͈̻̺̲͇̝̥̳̣̺̲̈́̈́͂͒̅̈́͑̅̐̐̕̕̚͝ͅl̶̢̛̛̯͉̗̗̠̻̤̪̜̥̯̎̽̂̅̍̏̎̾̕͝͠ļ̶̩̱̙̝̙̹̳̗̲̘̦̰͆̉͒͋͝l̴̢̢̡̗̙̘̜̜͎̻̹̮̿̐̿͊̑͗͒͛̓̇̚͜͜͝ͅl̶̹̫̣̠̫̖͕̙͓̥̤̞̬̫̍̃̈̆̌̚̕ļ̷̮̟͎̫̣͎̳̆̓̈̉̇̑̅́͝͝l̸̡̨̨̫̹̺̼̍̆̈́̆͗̽͂̽͝l̶͕̈l̸̛̦͕̱̖̺̭̰̈́͆l̶̛̠͈̲̣̤͔̲̺̠͛̈́̐͋͗̎́̅̂̀̀͘͠l̸̗̲̙̫̞̖̭̘̜͓͍̼͗̚ͅļ̸̛͎̞͙̬͍̰͎̥̤̂̐̐l̸̨̨͖̜̱̯̔̔̍̌̒͝ͅ 

 

 

 

 

 

_> End of recording_ 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small story that I thought about doing a while back. I just thought it was odd how cool everyone was with following Markus, so here's something a bit different.
> 
> I am an awful human being...
> 
> The translations may be off- I used Google Translate, so yeah... Feel free to correct them.


End file.
